


Strawberry Wine

by Loslote



Series: Four Seasons [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Cook Derek, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Misunderstanding, Mutual Pining, Nature Guide Stiles, Summer Camp Drama, Summer Camp Staff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7292425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loslote/pseuds/Loslote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's family owns and runs the Hale Family Campground and Retreat Center. Derek loves the camp, but it can be lonely when everyone leaves in the fall. When he falls in love with long time counselor Stiles Stilinski, will it be true love? Or will it only last the summer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strawberry Wine

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in the works for a long time, and I'm so excited now that it's done! I spent a long time debating between names for this - 'Sunset Babe' was the working title for a long time, so there's more sunset imagery in this than is maybe strictly necessary. I hope you enjoy!

Derek looks forward to a lot of ‘firsts’ every summer. The day the first trees bud, bringing life back to the campgrounds after a long, gray winter. The day the other staff arrive at the camp after being away at college, and the grounds ring with laughter and voices again after the long, quiet winter. The day the first families settle into their cabins. 

Derek even finds the teenagers who “don’t want to _be here_ , MOM” charming. On the first day.

He loves the day the lake is finally warm enough for people other than Cora to swim in, and the day Allison opens up the archery range, small children screaming in excitement as they follow her down the shaded path through the woods, and the day the first horny teens discover the storage shed with the old love seat behind the barns where Laura helps their father with the horses.

Okay, that’s a lie. He hates the day the first teenage couple discover the storage shed, but there’s no avoiding it. His mom keeps a bowl of banana flavored condoms next to that ratty old love seat, and Laura started adding single use packets of lube (also banana flavored) the summer Derek came out as bi. All of the Hale siblings can recognize the smell of banana condom at ten paces. Derek has a lot of fond memories of the shed, but he really doesn’t want to know what the horny little shits are getting up to. 

Of all the summer firsts, Derek’s absolute favorite is the day Stiles Stilinski, one of the hiking trail guides for three years straight, first emerges from the woods at the top of Hake Lake Hill with the light from the sunset lighting up his perfect amber eyes. It happens every clear day of every summer for the past three years, and it still catches him by surprise every year.

)()(  
xx

Derek spent years shuffling between activities at the camp. A summer at archery ended horribly after a girl barely big enough to draw the bow leapt into the range while screaming “for Narnia”. Derek had screamed for everyone else to stop firing, hauled the girl back to safety, and transferred to the kitchens the next day. 

The summer after the archery fiasco he spent at the waterfront. He never actually rage quit from the waterfront, which he considers a major achievement, but after a summer spent “rescuing” campers when they almost inevitably capsized their canoes three feet from shore, he made it clear to his mother that he would really rather try a new position next year. 

Next, he tried what would end up being Stiles’ job - leading hikers on the trails through the Preserve. He spent an entire summer silently reminding himself to walk slower and trying to keep the campers from wandering off the trail. One week he lost his voice and had to herd them along by running after the stragglers like a border collie. He happily relinquished the spot to Stiles when the other boy joined the staff the next summer.

Laura tied to get Derek to join her with the horses, but that had always been her and their dad’s thing. Derek would have felt weird intruding, and also, the horses scare him. Instead, Derek went back to the one job he’d actually enjoyed - working in the kitchens. Now, three summers later, he’s in charge of the food for the camp year-round. He loves the kitchens, loves the rush to get the food done in time, and loves trying new ideas, even with the limited staples he has to work with. 

Of course, every night someone will sneer at Derek’s cooking and ask if the food is locally sourced or organic or low fat. Erica, Derek’s second in command, has perfected the Office off to the side into a camera stare. Derek envies her. His always just looks constipated. “Well,” Derek says tonight, “we bought the refried beans at Costco, and that’s only an hour away, so. I guess you could call it local.” The man actually gasps - Derek can’t make this up - and stalks over to the salad line. Derek doesn’t have the heart to tell him that the lettuce is from Costco, too.

After the dinner rush, Derek joins the rest of the staff for dinner around the bonfire outside the mess hall. The bonfire is always Derek’s favorite part of the day.

“I just like the camaraderie,” he hisses as he hands Cora a plate of tacos (heavy on the sour cream, hold the salsa - for having spent a year in Argentina, Cora’s the biggest wimp in the family when it came to spice).

“Bullshit,” Cora says smugly. “You like looking at Stilinski’s moles.”

“The firelight flatters his complexion,” Derek pouts. “That doesn’t mean anything.” It means everything. Stiles’ complexion is like the glint of early morning sunrise off a faint dusting of snow in January (not February, February snow is dingy and not worthy of comparison to Stiles’ skin).

“Uh-huh,” Cora says, smirking. A lettuce leaf with a glob of sour cream on it drops out of her taco and onto her shirt. Derek pettily neglects to tell her and stalks off to hand out more tacos.

“Who wants to play poker?” Isaac calls cheerfully as he waltzes up to the fire.

“No one, ever,” Laura drawls. “Allison always wins.”

“Don’t hate the player,” Allison smirks. 

“Yeah, just don’t play the game,” Laura says. “Live action Clue?”

“Dad said we can't anymore," Cora reminds her. "You should know, you had to help track down the horses after that idiot Theo let them loose last year." 

“Fuck Theo,” Stiles chimes in. Everyone who had been at camp last year nods seriously.

Derek sees the newbies roll their eyes at each other. He smirks. By the end of the summer, they’ll be just as bad. “Mafia,” he suggests, “Allison gets to be narrator.” Allison is the best narrator. Her death scenes are the goriest.

“No,” Jackson groans. “I sat all day, I want to do something.”

“Okay, okay,” Allison says. “How about Sardines?”

“Yes,” Erica crows. “Love Sardines.”

“Reverse hide and seek,” Boyd explains to the newbies. “One person hides, everyone has to find them. If you find them, you hide with them. First person to find them is next hider. You win if you last an hour without being found.”

“Dibs on hiding,” Cora says quickly. “No peeking, I get three minutes to hide, later loses!”

She dashes out of the clearing, leaving her mostly finished taco on the log bench. Derek rolls his eyes and looks at his watch. “Time starts now, I guess,” he says.

)()(  
xx

Derek is the fifth person to find Cora, hiding in the ferns growing over and between the canoe racks. He would have missed her, except that Stiles slips, lets out a squawk, and tumbles out from behind the canoes right when Derek was passing by. Lydia groans from where she’s sitting with Boyd, Erica, and Cora. 

“Goddammit Stiles,” she sighs. Stiles flushes and crawls back behind the canoes, promptly starting to fidget again. Derek scoots in next to him, but quickly realizes two problems: one, that he didn’t quite fit, and two, that Stiles was not going to stop flailing of his own volition. So, thinking quickly, and with only the game in mind, Derek hauls Stiles up onto his lap and captures his hands in his own. Stiles’ eyes get big, but he eventually relaxes back against Derek and settles down.

Derek ignores Cora’s aggressively wiggling eyebrows. It was just for the game, after all. No other reason at all.

)()(  
xx

Derek doesn’t enjoy the first time in any given summer Lydia wins Sardines. She gloats. It’s unattractive.

“Nothing I do is unattractive,” she sniffs.

“It’s true,” Stiles cheerfully pipes up from the back. The two high five without looking. Derek rolls his eyes. He’d be jealous, but Stiles’ crush on Lydia from their first summer together has by now turned into more of a sibling relationship. He treats her the same way he treats his step-brother, Scott, when the other boy visits.

“Especially not since I don’t have to do dish duty this week,” Lydia adds, examining her fingernails. Derek sighs.

“Losers are on dish duty,” Laura agrees. “This week, that’s the newbies and...Isaac?”

“I’m better at Sardines when we’re all drunk,” Isaac says morosely.

)()(  
xx

Every staff member gets one day off every week, and this week, Derek’s day off is sunny and warm, everything a summer day should be. He tracks down a towel and a soda and sets up camp on the shore of the lake, relaxing to the sound of birds chirping, waves lapping at the sand, and small children screaming at how cold the water is.

Oh, well, you can’t have everything. Derek aggressively ignores the children and stretches, throwing one forearm over his eyes and sighing happily.

“Enjoying the sun?” Boyd drawls from his lifeguard chair.

“Mm,” Derek hums, peering out at him from underneath his forearm. “I am, thanks.”

“Thought you would’ve been more interested in the view,” Boyd says.

“What view?” Derek asks, sitting up. “The lake?” Boyd smirks and points across the lake, to where Derek can just make out Stiles’ tour group walking on the cliffs along the far side of the lake. Stiles is walking backwards and gesturing wildly about something.

“Oh, hilarious,” Derek grumbles, but can’t keep himself from smiling as he watches Stiles trip over a root and fall backwards, popping back up a second later with flailing limbs.

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Boyd asks. “We all know he’s into you.”

“The time hasn’t been right,” Derek says.

“Bull,” Boyd says. “You’re chicken.”

“Am not,” Derek insists, glaring up at Boyd. “I could ask him out whenever I wanted.”

“Tonight, then,” Boyd says, grinning triumphantly. “I dare you.”

“Well, if I have to ask out Stiles, you have to ask out Erica,” Derek snaps.

“Deal,” Boyd says, grinning. “Of course, Erica and I actually started dating two weeks ago, but I’ll ask her out again, no problem.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Derek groans. A nearby mother gasps in outrage. Derek flops back down onto his towel. “Fine. I’ll ask him out tonight.”

Boyd smirks. Derek kicks the base of his lifeguard chair, causing it to jerk a little and Boyd to swear and grab at the edge. The nearby mother swells up in indignation. Derek hides behind his forearm again, but days off are never as relaxing when an angry woman is trying to berate you for use of ‘inappropriate behavior’, so Derek packs up his things and retreats to his cabin to read in peace, abandoning Boyd to his fate.

)()(  
xxx

After all that, Stiles isn’t even at the bonfire that night. Laura pulls Derek aside and mutters to him that Stiles had had an allergic reaction to the coconut cake Erica served with dinner.

“Is he okay?” Derek asks, feeling his stomach plummet.

“He’s fine now,” Laura says, patting him on the back comfortingly. “Thought you’d want to know where he is, though. I saw you looking around like a lost puppy.”

Derek grumbles and shoves her away. Laura goes, laughing loud and carefree. Derek silently vows to eradicate any trace of coconut in his kitchen. In the meantime, he takes the beer Allison hands him and sits down with his legs over Erica’s lap, smirking at her protests. His plans will just have to wait for tomorrow.

)()(  
xx

Derek, Laura, and Cora share a cabin just off the main building, a concession from their parents from when Laura turned sixteen and complained bitterly that the rest of the staff got to live away from their parents for a summer while she was stuck in her bedroom across the hall from her parents’. 

The Hale Cabin was originally meant to be a mother-in-law suite, back when it was built thirty years ago, but no mother-in-law has ever actually lived there. Laura fixed it up with Derek’s reluctant help, and the two of the live there year-round, with Cora joining them in the summer. The tiny, white, wood-frame house only has a minimal kitchen (only the fridge and the coffeepot were ever used - perks of having a cafeteria next door), two bedrooms, and one surprisingly nice bathroom. 

When she’s home, Cora shares Derek’s bedroom rather than Laura’s because Laura always smells like horses. Derek suspects Cora won’t come back after she graduates, that she’ll move away like his Uncle Peter did back when Derek was in middle school. He tries not to think about it. For now, Derek curls up under his mountain of blankets and meets Cora’s eyes, immediately blushing at her knowing smirk.

“It seems like your crush only got worse since last summer,” she says. Derek groans.

“He grew, like, half a foot,” he mutters. “And he’s got muscles now, did you see?”

“Right,” Cora says. “So why are you nervous?”

“I’m not,” Derek grumbles. “I’m going to ask him out. Tomorrow.”

“You are,” Cora says, “I can tell. You jump every time you hear him laugh. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Derek insists. “It’s just - it’s nothing.”

“Is this about Colin?” Cora asks. Derek flinches and hides his face in his blanket pile. “It’s okay if you’re scared, Derek. But Stiles isn’t Colin, he won’t do that to you.”

Colin was the first boy Derek loved, back when he was fifteen. Colin’s family spent a month at the campgrounds, and Derek fell in love with him in the first week. He and Colin spent a few evenings on the beach, or in the woods, and eventually in the storage shed (and Derek’s bed, and Colin’s bed, and in the woods again). Then Colin left, with a wave and a goodbye, and he never came back.

Derek hadn’t expected to be with Colin forever, but it hurt when Colin never came back to visit, never sent him a text, even unfriended him on Facebook a week after leaving. Derek slept around for a couple of years after him, and then didn’t sleep with anyone at all for a couple of years after that. Stiles is the first person he’s considering having an actual relationship with since that first disastrous attempt, and Cora’s right - he is nervous. 

“He’s still going to leave,” Derek says quietly. “At the end of the summer. He’s going to leave, and go back to college, and I’ll still be here. And maybe he won’t come back next summer, or maybe he will and he won’t want me anymore, and maybe he’ll just want a summer fling,” he spits the words, “and not a relationship at all, and I’ll be stuck here, wanting, and he’ll wave goodbye and leave at the end of the summer, just like everyone else.”

Cora slips out of her bed and wraps her arms around Derek. “Oh, Derek,” she sighs. “Maybe he’ll love you just as much as you love him. Maybe he will come back. Not everyone will leave you, not always.”

“I live at a summer camp,” Derek sighs, leaning his head against Cora’s shoulder. “Everyone always leaves.”

“You can’t let that stop you from trying,” she says. Derek nods tiredly. 

“I know,” he says. “I will try, I will. I just. I’m scared.”

“Yeah,” Cora agrees, squeezing tighter. “I know.” 

)()(  
xx

Derek wakes up the next morning to a peal of thunder and the patter of rain against his window. Cora groans, throwing her pillow at the door and mumbling for Mom to give her five more minutes. Derek chuckles and rolls out of bed, haphazardly throwing on jeans and a shirt and snagging an umbrella for the walk over to the kitchens.

Laura’s already been and gone - horses need more taking care of during a thunderstorm, not less, and she wakes up before the sun on a normal day. She always brews a pot of coffee and then takes the whole thing with her in her huge, fuck-off thermus, leaving the kitchen smelling of coffee but none actually ready for Derek to drink. Somehow, this manages to be surprising and disappointing every single morning, and Derek huffs at the empty pot before trudging through the rain to get started on breakfast.

Normally the cafeteria empties out quickly after the meals, with everyone eager to go swimming or horseback riding or hiking or make friendship bracelets (Jackson ran the friendship bracelet workshop, and Derek has never met someone who claims to dislike their job so much, yet comes back year after year and never once requests a transfer).

On rainy days, though, people hang around, playing card games or chatting for hours and generally getting underfoot while the kitchen staff try to clean up, stretching out what is normally a quick process to a grueling, hours-long battle against a potential lawsuit about “unsanitary conditions”. The kitchen staff work from dawn to dusk on rainy days without so much as fifteen minutes to sit down.

After they finally send the last family off to their cabin and wipe down the last table, there’s no bonfire to relax in front of. Instead, the staff members set up a projector in the cafeteria, move the tables to the side, and lay out blankets and bean bag chairs to relax on while watching a movie. Derek claims one of the larger bean bags on the edge of the group for himself.

“Oh my god, you know what we should watch?” One of the newbies asks excitedly. Some girl named Haley or Haven or something. 

“If you say American Pie: Band Camp, I will rip your throat out with my teeth,” Laura snarls. She’s always stressed on rainy days. The horses hate the thunder.

Hannah scowls. “What’s wrong with American Pie?”

“I have watched that movie at least three times every summer for the past ten years,” Laura hisses. “It stopped being funny after the first two screenings.” It’s true. Band Camp is the perfect mix of funny, sexy, and summer camp themed. The newest members of the staff almost always suggest it. Derek isn’t as sick of it as Laura, but it’s not his first choice any more, either. 

Lydia opens her mouth. “The Notebook,” she suggests, only to be interrupted halfway through.

“No Notebook,” Cora drawls, examining her nails. “No Star Wars, either,” she adds as Stiles perks up. He’s sharing a beanbag with Lydia. Derek isn’t jealous. Not even a little.

“Oh, come on,” Harley grumbles. “Is there an approved list or something?”

“Laura, Derek, and I actually live here, so we get veto power,” Cora says. “Try something less predictable.”

Heather narrows her eyes. “Pitch Perfect,” she said.

“Fine,” Cora says, sighing and searching Netflix for the movie. As a pair of announcers make gleefully lecherous comments about a group of dancing frat boys, the door to the cafeteria slams open and Jackson storms in. His eyebrows are coated in glitter, and he has a half-finished friendship bracelet glitter-glued to the back of his head. Derek doesn’t think he knows. 

“Shh,” Cora hisses. Derek rolls his eyes. The girl with the trying-too-hard bun was going to lose it - it being her lunch - on stage. This was not the sort of occasion that required absolute silence.

“Stilinski, move it,” Jackson snaps, flushing. Stiles sputters in outrage, but Lydia just elbows him off the bean bag. Stiles picks himself up with an exaggerated huff. 

“Now where am I supposed to sit?” he whines.

Laura’s eyes glint evilly. “Derek has space,” she pipes up. Derek flushes and sinks deeper into his bean bag. Stiles glances over cautiously.

“Do you mind, dude?” he asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets and clearly trying to look casual.

“Go ahead,” Derek says. Everyone else is trying to pretend not to watch. He feels a new connection with vomit girl. Stiles sits down, perching carefully at the edge only to get sucked in by the bean bag until his side was pressed up against Derek’s.

“Sorry,” Stiles squeaks.

“It’s fine,” Derek says. Stiles is warm next to him, and when the other boy tries to adjust, his arm falls over Derek’s shoulders. Derek barely keeps himself from shivering at the feeling of being tucked under Stiles’ armpit. 

On screen, Beca’s father insists that her career isn’t valid without a college education. Derek scowls at him. He never went to college, and he has never regretted that choice.

“Dude, are you sure this is fine?” Stiles whispers, glancing at Derek’s face worriedly. Derek quickly wipes the scowl off his face.

“Oh, no, it wasn’t...I like this,” Derek blurts. “I like, with you...this.” He winces. Stiles seems to get it, though.

“Oh,” he says, looking pleased. “I’m glad. That you like this. With me.” Derek dares to nudge one hand up against one of Stiles’, who jumps like he’s been stung before twisting their pinkies together. Derek smiles fondly as Stiles proceeds to fidget and blush his way through the rest of the movie.

)()(  
xx

The sun was out the next morning, glinting off the giant puddles and patches of mud littering the pathways. Over the course of the day, most of the staff manage to acquire a liberal coating of mud, caked onto their skin and matted in their hair. Laura and the other stable hands are particularly indistinguishable, but Stiles is close behind. He even has mud on his eyelashes, clumping them together and making him blink constantly and rapidly. He’s lying on the ground in front of the logs, sighing morosely up at the sky.

“What are you doing,” Lydia asks, one eyebrow raised in elegant disdain. She, of course, has not a speck of mud on her. Derek doesn’t know if that’s a benefit of working in the main office with Derek’s mom, or if Lydia just magically repels dirt.

“It’s not like I can get any muddier,” Stiles sighs, “so I may as well just stay here forever.”

“Or you could take a shower,” Lydia says pointedly, nudging Stiles with the toe of her bizarrely mud-free shoe.

“Can’t,” Stiles says mournfully. “Liam and Hayden tried to bone in our cabin’s shower yesterday and accidentally fell into the pipes. Totally busted. Have to wait for a plumber to get out here and fix it.”

“Idiots,” Laura sniffed. “Don’t they know we have a storage shed for that?”

“Right?” Stiles drawls. “Anyway, we’re stuck sharing with Hayden’s cabin until ours gets fixed, and they set up a schedule of when we can use it. My shower slot isn’t until eleven thirty.”

Derek winces in sympathy. “You can use mine,” he offers. Stiles’ eyes go wide and his head snaps around to stare at Derek.

“Oh! You mean your shower,” he blurts after a second. “Dude, yes, absolutely, thank you thank you thank you!” He scrambles to his feet, mud flying everywhere and still not managing to land within a foot of Lydia’s shoes.

“Oh my god, baby bro,” Derek hears Laura mumble, before she pats him on the shoulder and rolls her eyes. “You get to clean up the mud, though.”

“Yes, fine,” Derek says, shover her lightly as he gets up. “C’mon, I’ll show you,” he tells Stiles, who trails after him, shedding flakes of dried mud the whole way. They stop by Stiles’ cabin to pick up clean clothes. Stiles grabs a shirt, pants, and boxers from the cleaner looking of two piles near the closest bunk bed to the door. Derek can’t judge. He just hopes that Cora remembered to get rid of the clump of her hair she leaves in the shower every morning. It’s usually 50-50 odds she’ll remember.

When they get to the cabin, Derek points Stiles in the direction of the bathroom and gets him a spare towel. It’s an old beach towel with a disembodied pony’s head beaming out. Laura likes to collect lost beach towels. The more disturbing, the better. Stiles looks bemused, which isn’t exactly fair. Derek could have given him the one with the angry Teletubbies.

“Hot water is to the left, even though the dial says it should be to the right,” he says. “Cora switched it to fuck with Laura’s ex girlfriend.”

“Got it,” Stiles says. He sets the towel on top of the pile of clean...cleaner clothes on the sink. With a slight smirk, he grabs the hem of his muddy shirt and pulls it straight up over his head, tossing it onto the ground. His skin is pale and dotted with moles, with stark tan lines across his biceps. He usually hid under baggy clothes. Derek hadn’t realized he’d be hiding a lean, fit body underneath all the flannel. Derek feels his face flush, and he hastily backs out of the bathroom, leaving Stiles to the shower.

“You can use my shampoo, it’s the one on the left front corner,” he mumbles before he leaves. He seriously considers holing up in his room and taking care of the warm curl of arousal Stiles had just inspired, but resigns himself to having to deal with it for the rest of the night. He doesn’t have time to jerk off. The hot water doesn’t last that long.

)()(  
xx

Derek leads Stiles back to the bonfire after his shower. Stiles’ cheeks are flushed red from the steam, and his hair is a wet mess dripping down onto his shirt. Derek can’t help but push him up against the wall of the cafeteria and, gently, his arms bracketing the other boy, lean in to press their lips together. Stiles sighs, relaxing into the kiss, loosely draping his arms around Derek’s shoulders. Derek pulls back after a minute, and they smile helplessly at each other. They sit next to each other at the bonfire, their fingers barely overlapping.

He can’t stop smiling. Doesn’t ever want to.

)()(  
xx

Derek takes the trash out every day around eight, when everyone has gone through the line to get their food but the cafeteria is still too full to start clean up. The dumpster is out back by the woods, just around the corner of the building from the employee parking lot, and completely hidden in shadows so late in the evening. Erica says she thinks it’s creepy, but Derek think she just doesn’t want to take out the trash.

As Derek heaves the black bag over the rim of the dumpster, he hears Stiles’ voice, talking to someone around the corner.

“No, I know,” Stiles says. He pauses for a beat, probably listening to someone on a phone. “Oh, no, no, it’s just temporary, I promise.” Pause. “Well, it’s not like it has to last, right? Just a couple of months.” Pause. “It won’t be a hardship, you know? I can put up with him for that long.”

Derek’s heart sinks, and he feels a little ill. Stiles continues on, blithely unaware.

“Anyway, I’ll see you at the end of the summer. Uh huh. Love you.”

Derek can hear Stiles walking away, and he half sits, half falls with his back against the dumpster. His face feels numb, and he leans his head back against the metal. Stiles only wants a fling. Derek’s just someone pretty to put up with for a couple of months until Stiles can get back to - what, his girlfriend? Boyfriend? Derek can’t believe whoever it is doesn’t mind Stiles screwing around with someone else over the summer. Apparently summer flings don’t even count as cheating.

Derek doesn’t realize how long he’s been sitting outside until Erica comes crashing out after him, complaining that he left her to handle the seconds rush and clean up all on her own. She quiets when she finds him, maybe seeing something on his face that told her something was wrong.

“Derek, what happened?” she asks.

“Nothing,” Derek says. “I guess, he just - Stiles just wanted a fling. It’s. Nothing really, I shouldn’t have expected…” he trails off, looking past Erica into the woods. “It’s nothing,” he sighs.

“Bullshit,” Erica snaps, her chin raised angrily. “He shouldn’t have led you on, if that’s all he wanted. You don’t deserve that, Derek.”

“I know,” Derek sighs. He does. He hears it all the time from Cora, and his mother, and even Laura, when she’s just slightly tipsy. “It’s better I find out now. Before I got invested or something.”

Erica sits down next to him and wraps her arms around him, dragging his head down onto her shoulders. It’s an awkward position, and Derek can already feel a kink developing in his neck, but he stays there for a long while.

)()(  
xx

He ignores Stiles as best he can the next day. Stiles comes up to him at breakfast, waffle in his mouth and a mug of coffee dangling precariously from his long fingers. Derek mumbles something about bacon burning and leaves him to Erica’s death glare. He ignores the way his heart clenches as Stiles’ face falls.

Thankfully, Stiles leaves for the day after that, and Derek throws himself into making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Erica shoots him a look when he pulls out the slices of cheese, which he aggressively ignores. She insists on having enchiladas on the first day of her period every month, he’s allowed to make his favorite comfort food when it turns out his crush is only interested in Derek for his body.

He goes to bed early that night, skipping the bonfire in favor of curling up in bed with hot chocolate and a movie about an alien dinosaur thing smashing buildings. Cora joins him just after the sidekick gets eaten.

“I could kill him for you,” she offers, adding more marshmallows to his drink.

“No,” Derek says, his lips sticky with marshmallow and feeling a little less miserable now that he’s had time to readjust. “He’s not doing anything wrong, really.”

“He hurt my brother,” Cora says. “That’s plenty.”

“He couldn’t have known. A lot of people would only be looking for a fling. I probably would be if I were only here for the summer.”

No one ever comes to summer camp looking for something that will last. Derek has heard the other staff talking about “when I get a real job” and “when I’m a real adult” and “when I’m back in the real world” all his life. 

The camp is Derek’s real job. When his parents retire, Laura gets the stables, he gets to manage the logistics of the camp, and Cora gets to deal with the people. That’s how it’s always been. They could walk away if they want - Cora might - but Derek has never wanted anything else.

The other staff see the camp as a fun summer job. Derek couldn’t even count the variations on “pays for shit, but at least you don’t have to sit behind a desk” he’s heard in his life. Sometimes the staff come back a few years in a row. Some of them, like Lydia and Allison, have been at the camp for almost as long as Derek. But they’ll leave eventually. Lydia’s already said she plans to do a mathematics internship next summer, and Allison is on the waitlist for next summer’s Olympic archery team. Even if she doesn’t get it, she’ll probably set up her own range soon.

And Stiles, well. He’s clearly not planning on staying much longer, either. They’ll leave, go on to their real adult jobs and their real adult lives, and Derek will stay at the camp for the rest of his life.

“It’s not fair,” Cora says.

“Yeah, well,” Derek says, shrugging. “Maybe it’ll work out someday.”

)()(  
xx

By morning, the battlelines have been clearly drawn. Lydia and Allison flank Stiles throughout breakfast, fawning over him and glaring across the room at the mound of scrambled eggs Derek is dishing out. The newbies are sitting with them, but two of them are more interested in their early morning game of tonsil hockey than Stiles.

Two tables over, Cora and Erica are practically foaming at the mouth, and Boyd, usually the voice of reason, is not trying very hard to rein them in. Derek sighs. This kind of drama was exactly what he didn’t want - but hey, it wouldn’t be summer camp without staff drama.

Derek’s mom had scheduled construction done on the building that day - something to do with the pipes, Derek didn’t actually pay attention when she was explaining it. It sounds like they’re using some sort of saw, but only for a second at a time, so the noise will rev up, then stop for a split second, then rev up again. Derek has a headache before lunch, and when Erica and Lydia get into a loud, screaming fight in the salad line, Derek snaps.

“Would you two shut up?” he snarls. Both girls look surprised. “Erica, I appreciate your support, but I am a grown man capable of handling my own relationship drama. I do not need you picking fights on my behalf.” Erica’s mouth twists unpleasantly, but she looks away without saying a word. “And Lydia, I have no idea what Stiles is mad about - I have the right to decide not to date someone if he’s looking for something I can’t give him - but you haven’t even talked to me about it. I thought we were friends,” Derek adds, and Lydia flinches, looking like a fish out of the water, “but apparently we’re not that close after all, if you can assume...whatever it is you’re assuming about me without even asking me.”

Lydia opens and closes her mouth a couple times before saying, “Wait. What do you mean ‘looking for something you can give him’?

“Oh, sure, that’s what you get out of that,” Erica starts, but Derek cuts her off.

“I mean,” Derek said, “I heard him say he just wanted a fling. And I’m not interested in that.”

“Oh,” Lydia says. Then, “OH.” She turns on her heel and flies out of the cafeteria, presumably in search of Stiles.

“She does know Stiles is somewhere on the other side of the lake right now, right?” Erica mutters.

“I mean, she makes the schedules,” Derek says. “She’ll figure it out eventually, I’m sure.” He isn’t actually that mad at Lydia. He’s worked with her for long enough to know that she’s prone to jumping to conclusions and overreacting - the Jackson drama last year was more than enough to drive that point home. Still, it rankles a little to be on the receiving side.

“So what do you think her little revelation was about, then?” Erica asks, turning back to the salad.

“Who knows,” Derek says. “I imagine we’ll find out tonight.”

He was right. That night at dinner, Stiles marches into the cafeteria, dirt smeared across one cheek in a wide swath, and comes to a stop in front of Derek looking determined. Derek fidgets with the soup ladle in his hands. He’s not sure he wants to have this out in front of everyone - frankly, he’s not sure he wants to have this out at all. No one likes being told they’re only wanted for sex. At least no one else can hear them over the sound of the construction workers outside.

“Derek,” Stiles starts, “Lydia said you overheard me say I only wanted a fling.”

“Yes,” Derek says, his grip becoming a strangle hold on the ladle. He just wants to get this conversation over with. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping.”

“No, that’s not,” Stiles interrupts himself with an annoyed shake of his head. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did,” Derek said. “You said it was only temporary. And that someone else wouldn’t mind, which, am I the other man or something? I didn’t think you’d be the kind of guy to cheat on your actual boyfriend with a summer boyfriend, but. I heard what I heard.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles groans, slumping against the food stand. “I know what you overheard. Derek, Scott’s studying abroad next semester, and I’m going to take care of his dog while he’s gone! I meant that my roommate won’t mind, since it’ll only be for a few months.”

Derek almost drops the ladle into the soup. “What?” he blurts out.

“I don’t just want a summer fling,” Stiles says, beaming at him. “I want to date you. For realsies.”

“For realsies,” Derek echoes, incredulously. He can’t believe Stiles actually wants to date him...or that he wants to date someone who unironically said the words ‘for realsies’.

“Oh my god, come here,” Stiles says, grabbing the front of Derek’s shirt and hauling him forward. Derek carefully leans forward, avoiding the hot metal of the soup pot, and meets Stiles in the middle. Stiles kisses like it’s the best thing to ever happen to him, eager and messy. Derek tries to slow him down, catching Stiles’ lower lip between his teeth and tugging him into place.

“That cannot be hygienic,” Erica drawls. “Not that I’m complaining about the free show, but. Maybe take five, Der.”

Derek happily agrees. He tosses his apron at her and catches Stiles’ hand in his, leading him through the kitchen and out to the parking lot, where he presses Stiles against the wall of the building and kisses him until they’re both reduced to a panting mess.

)()(  
xxx

Summer ends in the middle of August, with frantic shouts as everyone has to find that one shirt that just disappeared and say goodbye to every single person on staff. Derek and Stiles hide away in his room, cuddling on his bed. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Stiles says, pressing kisses into Derek’s scruff.

“Me too,” Derek says, clinging to him. “You’ll call, right?”

“As often as I can,” Stiles says, sniffling. “I promise.”

Later that day, Derek has to watch as Stiles launches into Scott’s arms, gets in his car with all his stuff, and drives away. And all Derek can do is hope Stiles decides to call, to remember that he has a boyfriend back home, and to come back next summer.

)()(  
xx

Winter is a slow season. They host weekend conferences, with businessmen in suits who turn up their noses at Derek’s cooking and try to bond in awkward trust fall exercises. Sometimes they get religious or women’s retreats, where people wander around with bibles or yoga mats and get in touch with either God or their ‘inner woman’. Sometimes they get even Christian women’s retreats. Everyone is so happy and serene. Derek misses the chaos of summer.

On the weekdays, Derek only has to cook for the skeleton staff they keep throughout the year - his family, mostly, along with the barn staff and a couple of administrative people. Derek spends the weekdays writing. He doesn’t think he’s much good, but he’ll get better with time, and it gives him something to do until summer rolls back around. He Skypes Stiles in the evenings, but Stiles is busy, and the time difference with Stiles on the East Coast is not always conducive to long conversations. Derek makes the best of it, but he misses Stiles constantly.

One Wednesday morning, Derek is trekking back to his cabin after finishing up breakfast when he sees a car pulling into the parking lot. He frowns. He didn’t know they were expecting anyone today. He might have put more effort into breakfast if he’d known.

The car door opens, and Derek freezes. Stiles climbs out, beaming at him and waving frantically. Derek bursts out laughing and runs to meet him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks joyfully.

“Winter break,” Stiles says. “I got back late last night, came here first thing this morning. I’m here for almost a month.”

Derek wraps him in a tight hug, squeezing as tightly as he thinks he can get away with. “I missed you,” he says.

“I missed you, too, you lug,” Stiles says, clinging back just as much as Derek did. “You’ve got to meet my parents. I know you know them, you need to meet them as my boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Derek breaths happily. He does know Stiles’ parents - the Sheriff has come out to the camp before when they’d had vandalism or petty theft, and he met Melissa when Cora broke her arm a few years ago. They’re good people. He’s thrilled that Stiles wants him to meet his family. “I’d love to.”

Stiles pulls back just enough to beam at him. He looks like he’s too happy for his expression to contain it. Derek feels the same way. He leans forward and kisses Stiles, hungry and desperate. The fall semester was way too long to go without kissing Stiles. A single day is too long. 

But Derek can handle it, as long as he knows he’ll get to see Stiles again at the end. And he knows he will. Stiles promised.

)()(  
xx

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, all - I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
